


Amicitia

by lockmyheart



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater, Shameless (US)
Genre: Banter, Crossover, Friendship, Gansey being Gansey, Humor, Ian likes 'em tough, M/M, Mickey likes 'em pretty, Roadtrip, Ronan Being Ronan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22777714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lockmyheart/pseuds/lockmyheart
Summary: [Shameless/The Raven Cycle crossover, because why not]Ian and Mickey are on a honeymoon roadtrip, and end up at a diner in a small town in West Virginia. Mickey gets distracted by a pretty face walking in and everyone ends up learning something new about each other.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 23
Kudos: 112





	Amicitia

**Author's Note:**

> A silly Shameless/TRC crossover that I wrote a year or so ago. I thought I’d lost it, but I just found the backup ;_; I rewrote it a little to fit the current Shameless canon.
> 
> Just don’t ask me what the timeline is, okay, because wherever this is in TRC universe it won’t match up with the Shameless timelines. Don’t worry about it, we’re not about realism in this household, I just want these characters in the same scene. Let’s pretend it makes sense.
> 
> You might still enjoy this if you haven't read TRC, I'm not sure, but I'm not so sure if it works the other way around since it's from Ian's POV.

Ian can tell the exact moment Mickey stops listening to what he’s saying. His eyes slide off Ian’s face and begin to track the movement of something behind him.

“—and then she… What?” Ian stops in the middle of his sentence and turns around in his chair to locate what Mickey’s looking at. A guy had just walked in the door and was currently heading for the counter. Ian holds back his amusement when he turns to face Mickey again, who’s slightly slack-jawed as he stares like he was never taught to have any shame.

Ian wants to laugh; this is _so_ rare and not like Mickey at all. However, he forces his expression into mock-offence. “Earth to Mickey, are you serious right now?” he says and Mickey’s eyes snap back to him.

“What?” Mickey pointedly does not look away from Ian now, though Ian can tell he wants to from the way his face sort of twitches.

“I didn’t realize your type was so…” Ian glances back over to the guy. He’s leaning against the counter now, talking to a waitress with a billion dollar smile on his perfectly symmetric face. “ _Pretty_ ,” he finishes.

“What?” Mickey’s defensive now, and the whole thing is hilarious. “ _You_ don’t think he’s hot?”

“He looks like an Abercrombie & Fitch model, Mickey. I mean, sure, but.” He shrugs. “Eh.”

“ _Eh_?” Mickey snorts in disbelief. He swivels his whole goddamn body around in the chair to look at the guy properly, then turns back. “You’re fuckin’ blind,” he decides, offended Ian dared to disagree with him about the hotness of this stranger.

“Well, looks like you’re shit outta luck, ‘cause he just planted one on that waitress.”

Mickey turns again, because subtlety was never his forte, and wrinkles his nose. “No way. _Way_ too pretty to be straight.”

The waitress snaps at the guy with a towel, laughing, and flitters off to the register to serve another customer. The guy stares after her with such blatant adoration it makes Mickey scowl. Ian hides his snort-laugh by taking a big sip of his coffee.

“Ugh. Fine.” Mickey turns back around, still scowling. “Anyway, what were you saying?”

“Before your new crush walked in, you mean?”

Mickey’s ears turn red and Ian wants to kiss him. “Shut the fuck up.”

For a few moments they forget about the pretty rich guy (because he was definitely rich, no doubt) and fall back into conversation. But then, the waitress floats over with a cup of steaming coffee for the guy and Mickey zones out again, tracking him to his table not too far from where the two of them are sitting. 

A few years ago Ian might have turned into a jealous ball of rage at such an overt display of attraction, but now, after having been married for almost eight months, they were stronger than they had ever been, and Ian wasn’t bothered by Mickey finding other dudes attractive. Mickey won’t leave him for anything or anyone, Ian’s never been more sure of that. 

Granted, Mickey’s never as blatant as this, not ever. Ian supposes he can see it, the guy _is_ ridiculously good looking, like Lead Actor in a Hollywood Movie-type gorgeous, but he doesn’t do much for Ian. Ian’s type is usually more – “Holy shit.”

“Hmm?”

“Take your eyes off of Prince Charming for a second and check out his friend,” Ian mutters, keeping his head low and desperately trying to make it look like they aren’t both staring like a pair of idiots now.

“Which one?”

“The hot one.”

They’ve never really talked about what their taste in men actually is. Mickey still jokes that Ian’s into ‘old grey-pubed geriatrics’, and all Ian knows about Mickey’s taste is, well, himself. Now it’s becoming very clear that they’re very different. Ian’s learning all sorts of new and interesting things on this honeymoon.

“I mean, none of them are ugly,” Mickey says, eyes narrowed in thought.

It was true, it was a table of good-looking guys, that was for sure. They were sitting in a three-sided booth, lounging like they owned the place. Ian hadn’t seen them come in, but they must’ve arrived not long ago. “The guy in black,” he says to Mickey, quietly. “With the shaved head.”

Mickey hums. “Yeah, I guess.”

Ian gapes. “You _guess_!”

“He looks like he’d kick your ass, man.”

“I’d let him. And he’s gay.”

 _“That_ guy? No way.”

“Don’t stereotype. Yeah way.”

“Okay, Gay Jesus, how do you figure?”

“Guy next to him has his hand on his thigh.”

Mickey pauses. Looks. “Well, I’d be fuckin’ damned.”

An Asian guy (also attractive), seated in the back of the booth, says something to the rest of group, and in a flash four curious faces turn towards them.

Ian and Mickey both hastily look away, gluing their eyes to each other instead.

“Oh my god,” Ian breathes, wide-eyed, struggling to contain his laughter. “We’re so fucking busted.”

Then they’re both giggling into their coffees, kicking each other under the table.

“Holy shit, holy shit,” Mickey murmurs, still looking stiffly into Ian’s eyes. “One of them’s coming over here, fuck.”

“ _Stop laughing_ ,” Ian scolds, though he’s working hard to control his own giggles. They both miraculously pull themselves together just in time, when a figure stops by their table. They look up, as if they’re annoyed at being disturbed in the middle of their conversation. 

“The fuck do you want?” Mickey says, but his words don’t come off quite as threatening as they usually would. He reddens and sinks into his seat, pressing his lips together.

Abercrombie Model smiles pleasantly at them, non-perturbed by the gruff greeting. He’s dressed like an ad for the color Beige in the brand Spoiled Rich Kid; Ian didn’t know people actually dressed like this in the real world. “Gentlemen,” he says in a way that makes Ian kind of want to punch him, and he’s sure if Mickey wasn’t so blinded by his (objectively beautiful) face, he would too. “Would you like to join us? You’re new here, right?”

Mickey starts to speak, but nothing really comes out apart from a pathetic gust of air. Ian takes pity on him and answers for. “We’re on a road-trip.”

“Oh really?” Abercrombie Model lights up and Mickey looks away, visibly flustered. “I’ve been road-tripping, it was wonderful. Where are you from? Come, join us, we’ve got to know what you think of Henrietta.”

Ian thinks about what Mickey had said earlier today (“This place is a dump”) and grins. He sends Mickey a look, a silent question, and gets a helpless shrug in return. Hey, they might as well, they haven’t talked to anyone besides customer service workers on this trip yet so far.

He stands up. Mickey has this horrified look on his face, but he stands as well. They follow the guy towards his table, bringing their drinks with them. Ian slides a hand down Mickey’s back and feels him relax a little under his touch.

“Should I be offended that I’ve never made you speechless?” he whispers.

“Shut up, asshole.”

They reach the table, and now it’s Ian’s turn to feel flustered, because Hot Guy is eyeing them up and down with the sort of casual disinterest that Ian can’t quite pinpoint why he’s attracted to. Maybe it’s because it bears similarities to how Mickey used to look at him, way back when.

“So.” Abercrombie Model smiles. “Henry,” he says, motioning towards the Asian guy, who smiles brightly and waves. Next to Abercrombie Model, he’s the friendliest looking of the group, and looks only slightly less like a snob. His hair fascinates Ian, as it seems to defy all laws of gravity. “Adam.” The guy with his hand on Hot Guy’s thigh nods, smiling a little. He’s handsome too, in a more guy-next-door kind of way. “And this is Ronan. Ronan, be nice.” The last part is said with polite exasperation. Hot Guy – Ronan – holds up both hands, widening his eyes.

“What? I didn’t even _say_ anything!”

“Your face says enough. I’m Gansey. Sorry about him, he doesn’t know how to meet new people, never has.”

He shakes both of their hands, firmly, like they’re in a business meeting. Mickey presses up closer to Ian’s side like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Mickey’s never been good at meeting new people either.

Gansey borrows two chairs from a nearby empty table and places them close together at the end of the booth. Mickey ends up closest to Ronan, at the left side of the booth, who’s got one long leg stretched across to rest on the seat opposite him. His heavy combat boot has already left traces of mud on the seat. 

“These guys are road-tripping,” Gansey informs his friends, sitting down after shoving Ronan’s foot further in, ignoring his scoff of protest. “Where from?”

“Chicago,” Ian says.

“Ooh, big city guys!” Henry leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “How do you find our humble Henrietta?”

“Uh, it’s –” Ian exchanges glances with Mickey. “Nice.”

“They hate it.”

“Ronan!”

Ronan shrugs. He leans back in his seat with a smirk and crosses his arms over his chest. His leather jacket squeaks with the movement. “What? It’s a shithole, they can say it, we won’t be offended.”

Ian tries to blink away his heart eyes. “Um, we’re just passing through,” he says at the same time as Mickey says, “Yeah, it’s pretty shit.”

Ronan laughs, sharply, delighted, and next to him Adam rolls his eyes fondly. Ian wonders if they’re together or just flirting.

Mickey reaches for his mug on the table and Henry’s swoops in and wraps his fingers around Mickey’s wrist. Mickey freezes, his heckles about to rise, but he doesn’t have time to react before Henry starts talking. “Dude, these tats, man!” Mickey reluctantly lets go of the mug and humors Henry, flattening his fingers so they’re properly on display. “What’s up with them?”

“Bad choice when I was fourteen,” Mickey replies, but he sounds damn well pleased with himself. He puts his other hand on the table as well. Henry reads "fuck you up" out loud with a wide smile and Ian can't help but think he's the kind of guy who'd get mugged in three seconds in the South Side. 

“Stop touching the guy, jesus, Cheng.” Ronan kicks Henry underneath the table with his available foot. Henry lets go of Mickey’s wrist and scowls in Ronan’s direction.

“Just making conversation. Hey, Lynch here’s got tats too. Wanna show us a little, Lynch?”

“I’m not taking my shirt off in fucking Nino’s,” Ronan snaps.

Ian can see a little bit of a black pattern curling up under Ronan’s shirt collar. He wouldn’t be opposed to seeing Ronan without his shirt off.

“God, are you two ever going to stop biting each other’s heads off?” Adam says, but without losing the fond look he has on his face. “Ignore them, sorry, guys, it’s become their thing now. So, you said Chicago? What’s that like?”

“A shithole worse than this shithole,” Mickey says without missing a beat.

Henry leans in again. “Yeah. Lots of gun violence, right? Gangs?”

Ian hears Mickey snort quietly.

“Uh, yeah, I guess it’s got that reputation,” Ian says and Gansey sends Henry a look that says he can’t believe he just asked something like that. “We’re not from the fanciest parts, so. Yeah. We see a bit of that.”

“What he means to say is we’re dirt poor and it’s a miracle we’ve been able to pay for gas to even get us this far,” Mickey adds.

Adam nods like he understands, and maybe he does. Something about him does not give Ian the same Rich Kid vibes as all the others.

Out of nowhere, Ronan says, “You’re a thing, right?” He gestures between them lazily, sharp eyes bouncing between Ian and Mickey.

“Ronan!” Gansey exclaims at the same time as Adam groans painfully, his head falling back against the seat. “You can’t just –”

 _“What_?”

Ian drapes his arm around the back of Mickey’s chair. “We are.”

“See!” Ronan points a finger in Gansey’s face. “No reason to be so fucking uptight, _grand_ pa. I know what I’m talking about.”

“Lynch and his immaculate gaydar strikes again!” Henry and Ronan’s fists collide in a fist bump. Ian can’t quite nail down any dynamics around this table, but he thinks he’s enjoying himself.

“Some people don’t want to announce it to the world,” Adam scolds, but his voice mild. “It’s none of our business.”

“What, you trying to say you have a problem telling the world you’re my boyfriend?”

Adam pointedly sighs. “ _No_ , I’m _just saying_ it’s none of our business.”

“It’s fine, guys,” Ian says, pressing his thigh against Mickey’s. “Actually, we’re married. This is our honeymoon.” He briefly flashes his hand, showing off his wedding ring that matches the one Mickey’s wearing.

“No shit, congrats.” Henry smiles like he means it and Gansey congratulates them like he’s truly happy that a pair of strangers got their shit together and got married.

“I’m sorry,” Ronan speaks up, “You’re on a honeymoon to bumfuck _Henrietta_?”

“I must admit, I question that as well,” Henry says.

Ian shrugs. “We’re driving around, we haven’t traveled much before.”

“Or ever,” Mickey adds.

Back in Chicago, they had dealt with people asking them why they didn’t just pack their bags and go somewhere tropical and just chill for a week like normal people, but that hadn’t been tempting. They both wanted more than to just lay on a beach somewhere and burn to crisps, and they had enjoyed their last roadtrip together (though not so much the end) so much that they figured that was what they’d do. Plus, there was something so fucking freeing about being able to go wherever, to just take one day at a time and explore.

How they ended up here in Henrietta, West Virginia (“Never even heard of it,” Mickey’d said when they saw the sign) was by pure chance.

“We haven’t traveled much either,” Adam says. He shares a loaded look with Ronan that Ian can’t begin to interpret, but Ronan smiles at him softly. He squeezes Adam’s knee and murmurs something to him that Ian thinks sounds like Latin, but he must’ve heard wrong.

“Ugh, gross,” Henry exclaims, making exaggerated gagging noises. “After all this time I’m still not used to Lynch being all soft. You see,” he directs at Ian and Mickey, “Parrish here’s back from college for the summer, I swear, every summer they get more and more disgusting.”

“Who’s disgusting?” The waitress from earlier is suddenly right behind Mickey. He jumps, but Ian doesn’t think anyone but him notices.

“Lynch and Parrish.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” She smiles at the pair before she switches back into work mode. “What are you having today? And who are your new friends?”

“This is Mickey and Ian,” Gansey says, and Mickey smirks at Ian at the way Gansey places Mickey’s name first. “They’re on a road-trip from Chicago, we decided to invite them over.”

The waitress eyes them for a second before she nods. “I’m Blue,” she says, tapping her pen against her notepad. Mickey doesn’t get the chance to ask what the hell kind of hipster name Blue is (Ian knows him well enough by now that he just _knows_ that’s what he was about to blurt), before she continues, “The usual, guys?”

Everyone nods and hums in confirmation. Gansey looks at Ian and Mickey. “Anything for you guys? It’s on me.”

“Oh, uh, no thanks, we just ate.”

Mickey groans quietly. He’s annoyed Ian didn’t run with the opportunity for this clearly loaded dude to get them some fancy cakes or some other dessert. Well, if Mickey wants something, he’ll have to speak up himself, he’s a big boy.

“Four plates of junk food coming right up.” Blue doesn’t actually write anything down. She sticks her notepad and pen into the pocket of her apron and leaves after sharing a sweet smile with Gansey.

“They’re disgusting too,” Henry explains to Ian and Mickey. “I need to find myself a beau, this is _un_ bearable.”

Ronan makes a joke about who would possibly want to date you, Cheng, and gradually, Ian and Mickey find themselves lowering their shoulders.

By the time the guys are halfway done with their meals, and Gansey has bought Ian and Mickey a beer each, they are both more involved in the conversation. Henry had wanted to know how they met, and Ian had vaguely told the story about how they used to not like each other, but started having casual sex that developed over the years to something more.

Ian can’t keep the fondness out of his voice as he speaks, and he can tell from the half-smirk on Henry’s face that they are also on his Disgusting Couples list now. He doesn’t mind.

“So, yeah, some things happened and we haven’t really been able to go anywhere for a while, so now we grabbed the chance. We’re gonna drive around and see as much as we can ‘til our money runs out, then we’ll go back.”

“Are you guys in college?”

Mickey snorts so loudly that suddenly all eyes, including Ian’s, turn to him. He reddens a little around the ears. “No,” he says quickly. “High school drop-outs.”

“He-ey.” Ronan holds up his hand and Mickey high fives him, grinning.

Adam huffs. “ _Ronan_.” He turns to Ian. “He’s convinced himself he’s superior because college isn’t for him. He runs a farm.”

“A farm?” Ian looks at Ronan and tries to imagine him tending a field and driving a tractor or whatever it is farmers do. He can’t see it.

“He’s real good with his animals.” Ronan turns to smile at Adam like he wants to kiss him. Ian feels warm, he thinks he’s blushing a little, but he knows it won’t show on his sunburned face. He’s suddenly very aware of the fact that him and Mickey don’t really have any gay friends. Ian used to have them back when he dated Trevor, but he lost them all in that mess. He misses it, and he thinks it could be good for Mickey too.

“So, like, a _farm_ farm?” Mickey asks, skeptically. “Like, with cows and pigs and shit?”

“Just cows,” Ronan corrects. “And a few chickens. A goat. And a peacock.”

There is a collective groan around the table. “Goddamn, the peacock.” Henry throws his hands up. “Only Lynch would have a _peacock_ wandering about his property, I swear to god. It’s symbolism. He’s also got a pet raven.”

“Damn.” Mickey whistles. “That’s hardcore.”

Ronan looks extremely satisfied with being called hardcore. His back straightens a little and visibly preens. Ian almost wishes he’d said it first. 

“Oh, your glasses are empty.” Gansey stands up. “I’ll get you more.”

“Oh, no.” Ian shakes his head. “I’m good.” He’s already kind of feeling the buzz after his one.

Gansey nods. “What about you, Mickey?”

“Uh.” Mickey swallows. “Yeah. Sure.” He pauses. “Thanks,” he adds, looking away with a slight grimace on his face. Ian catches himself wondering if Mickey being a man of very few words back in the beginning of their relationship was because he gets awkward and tongue-tied around people he’s attracted to. Ian makes a mental note to ask him later, because the thought delights him. 

Gansey leaves for the counter. Ronan whispers something in Adam’s ear that has Adam chuckling.

“Wanna share with the group, Pynch?”

“Do not call us that.” Ronan kicks Henry under the table again. “Just saying, I wonder if he knows his husband wants to suck Dick’s dick.”

Mickey well and truly reddens now. He looks torn between wanting the ground to swallow him up and wanting to punch Ronan in the face. Ian puts a hand on his knee to at least keep him from doing the latter. He has a good feeling Ronan wouldn’t hesitate to punch him right back, and he’s got a lot of height on Mickey. “Watch it,” Mickey growls instead. Ian squeezes his leg harder.

Gansey comes back just in time. He sets a foaming glass of beer in front of Mickey and takes his seat. He must sense the tension, because he looks around the group with his eyebrows raised. “What’s going on?”

Ronan’s looking at Mickey with a wicked glint in his eyes. “It’s fine, man,” he says to Mickey, and Ian groans, because Ronan is stirring the pot and Mickey always rises to the bait. “We’ve all had a crush on Gansey, it’s just what happens.”

“ _What?_ ” “Excuse me?” “I knew it!” The shocked replies tumble out of Ronan’s friends’ mouths on top of each other. Henry looks like Christmas has come early and Adam’s wide eyed but laughing. Only Gansey’s jaw is hanging open in utter and complete shock.

“What, am I wrong?” Ronan looks at them all in turn. Henry shrugs, still grinning like the cat that got the cream. Adam wrinkles his nose.

“I don’t know,” Adam says. “Maybe a little, but briefly.”

“See.” Ronan looks back to Mickey. “We’ve all been there. The thing is, you get over it as soon as you get to know him, he’s a giant nerd and a loser. And he dresses like my grandpa’s grandpa. Well, except Sargent, I suppose, she’s still not over it. Some people can’t be helped.”

Gansey’s looking at Ronan as if he’s just turned into a whole new person. He must not realize how attractive he is, which, to be honest, is kind of annoying to Ian. Gansey coasts through life, has everything handed to him, Ian just knows it. He can see it, smell it.

“You… I mean… You used to…” Gansey splutters like a fish out of water. “Really?”

Ronan nods. His long fingers trace the rim of his bottled coke. “Like I said, I got over it as soon as you started Ganseying.”

“You never told me.”

This is where Blue shows up again, no apron on this time. As there’s no free seats for her, she slides into Gansey’s lap. “Ronan never told you what?”

“Lynch had a crush on your boyfriend,” Henry says. “Oh, _man,_ _”_ he all but whines. “I’d have paid to see _that_.”

Adam snorts. “Lynch and I aren’t hot enough for you, Cheng?”

“As if you wouldn’t want to see it, Parrish. It’d be fucking _regal_. Oh, god, they’d have such passionate--”

“Yeah, alright! Don’t have to get so fucking vivid about it.” Ronan’s turning red now. Ian finds it awfully charming. It suits him.

Blue’s eyes turn as comically wide as Gansey’s, but she seems almost as delighted as Henry. “Aww, Ronan.”

For the first time, Ronan looks like he truly regrets bringing it. He scowls at Blue. “Shut it, Maggot. Thought you had work to do, or is the summer over already?”

“It’s my break, jerkface.”

Ian steals a glance at Mickey. He’s still embarrassed, but the focus has been taken off him what with Ronan’s confession. Ian squeezes his leg and gives him an encouraging smile. When they get home, they’re going to get some friends, he thinks. A group like this, that they can meet up and have lunch with and tease and joke with. Ian’s never really craved friends, but suddenly he aches for it. Aches for this, for the both of them.

They end up sitting there for two more hours. They laugh a lot. Mickey loosens up, no one teases him about Gansey again (and no one except Mickey notices Ian sneaking glances at Ronan) and they even promise to meet them here again tomorrow at the same time. They had planned on leaving Henrietta after lunch, but they could stay for one more day.

The town was still shit, but something about these boys, and girl, kept pulling them in.

“God,” Mickey says as they finally excuse themselves and head for their cheap-ass motel. “That was awful.”

“It wasn’t.” Ian elbows him, knows he doesn’t really mean it, and wraps an arm tightly around his waist. Mickey’s quiet. Ian jostles him. “What is it?”

Mickey takes a deep breath. “You’re not mad, right?”

“Mad? About…?” He laughs. “I don’t give a shit if you thought he was hot, Mick. Jesus. As long as you don’t bang him or, like, fall in love with him or anything.”

Mickey snorts. “Fat chance. Same to you though.”

Ian kissed the side of his head. “I know. I thought it was kinda cute the way you got all tongue-tied like that.”

“Fuck you.”

“I love you too.” Ian squeezes Mickey closer to him. “I suspect Ronan’s right though, he’s not _really_ your type. A spoiled rich boy who’s never realized what he has, he’d drive you crazy.”

Mickey snorts. “Probably. Fucking gorgeous as all hell though.”

They agree to disagree on exactly how hot Gansey is or isn’t, though Ian suspects this is something that is going to come up at random intervals from here on out.

They stay in Henrietta for another two days, then leave with five new numbers saved on their phones, after shocking everyone by saying they’re not on any social media. (“Even _Gansey_ ’s on social media!”) They might not ever meet any of these people again in person, but Ian thinks he might be able to convince Mickey to try out this whole ‘friends’ thing.

**Author's Note:**

> How is this over 4000 words. Please leave a comment if you enjoyed it, I have no idea whether anyone but me is into this concept.


End file.
